Hunted

Chapter Ten: The Visitor

I stepped forward, but he stood up quickly and moved to the other side of the room. I stopped and looked at him, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"I thought you were dead..." I whimpered.

He shook his head. "Olivia, please, let me explain." he said, backing against the wall.

He looked so different. His brown hair was getting long, hanging in his eyes, and he had a thin layer of stubble on his chin, but he was still Sam.

"I don't have much time." he whispered. "Olivia, he's trying to kill me for what I saw, and he'll use anyone to get closer to me. You can't trust anyone, okay? I'm so sorry that you got sucked into this, just..." he hesitated. "Don't do what the messages tell you to anymore. Don't try to find me, and we'll both have a better chance of living."

"Sam, you've been gone for a year. A year, and I thought you were dead until just a few days ago. Do you know how hard that's been on me?" I demanded, stepping toward him.

He stepped back, and swung his leg out of the open window. "Olivia, I'm sorry. You were never meant to be a part of this. Don't try to find me." he said, tears in his eyes. "Promise me that."

"Sam..." I whispered.

He shook his head, and dropped through the window. I watched him retreat down the road in the dim light of the setting sun.

"Olivia, dinner!" my mom called from the kitchen.

"I'll be right down!" I shouted down to her, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

Sam had been right there, in my bedroom, telling me not to look for him anymore. He really was alive.

After cleaning up the smudged mascara off of my cheeks, I went down for dinner, when I sat at the table, my mother looked up at me.

"Honey, you look like you've been crying." she pointed out, looking concerned.

"Ben and I had a fight." I told her. It wasn't a lie- we did fight, but that wasn't why I had been crying.

"What?" my dad asked. "What did he say?"

"It was just an argument, dad. We'll work it out, okay?" I replied, sitting down.

After that, the three of us just ate dinner in silence, not really saying anything to each other, except for the odd compliment to my mom on how good the food was.

"You still look sad." my mother pointed out when I was clearing the plates.

"Mom, I'm fine. Just leave me alone." I whispered, rolling my eyes.

"Don't talk to your mother like that." my dad cut in.

I stepped past him into the hallway. "Dad, honestly, I'm not in the mood, so I'd appreciate if you and mom would get off of my back."

My dad looked angry, but he turned away from me. I walked to my room and lay down in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sam. Sam. Sam. He had been right here, sitting on my bed- completely alive. And he was telling me to stop looking for him. How could I possibly do that?

"Sam, wherever you are..." I whispered, and then laughed, realizing that I was talking to someone who was blocks, possibly miles, away. "Sam, I'm not going to stop looking for you, especially now that I know that you're okay."

As if on cue, my phone beeped. I reached over and checked the message. It was Danielle.

'Hey, Warren got your car fixed but he isn't comfortable dropping it off in your driveway. Do you think you could meet us in the parking lot of my apartment building?'